


CC Fic Prompt

by hestherewithme



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestherewithme/pseuds/hestherewithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt #35 from daily-crisscolfer-prompts.tumblr.com</p><p>Soulmates!fic. Every person only gets half of a picture as a soulmate mark. Whoever has the other half is, obviously, your soulmate. </p><p>Chris and Darren each have half of a lightning bolt.</p><p>Bonus:</p><p>They meet because someone notices the weird looking mark on both of them and introduces them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CC Fic Prompt

“No. Please Sky, not again. The last one completed my mark with a sharpie when I was asleep and tried to convince me that we were meant to be.” Chris whined.

She meant well, but she had way too much free time on her hands. 

When she wasn’t taking upon the role of his mother, she was his wingman, his confidante, and the human version of a matchmaking website he couldn’t log out of.

 

 He was trying to get out of a situation where his decency and social awkwardness ended up delivering him yet another moron he wouldn’t be able to stand after a few days. 

They were driving to a diner or something, where they supposedly were meeting the new ‘perfect man’ Skylar decided was his soulmate. He didn’t know where she found these people, nor how she figured the various marks they had could ever be the ones that were the finishing half of his own. 

If he knew this was the reason they were heading to their current destination, he never would have gotten out of bed. But the thought of free food as well, as a day away from the blank word document on his laptop screen sounded appealing that morning. 

“This one’s different I swear. He’s sweet and gorgeous and has this…” she began her attempt to entice him with the same words he’d heard a hundred times since he’d known her. 

He rolled his eyes and let her continue with her monologue of obviously over exaggerated compliments of a stranger, and glanced at his mark. It had a black outline that seemed to have been traced with great care, located on the patch of skin between his left thumb and outer wrist. Just like it always had been there. He always thought it was a shitty place for a mark to be, but didn’t need to imagine the details of how he could have had it worse.

Chris had spent countless hours trying to conclude just what the whole image could be. He had a guess, it slightly resembled the jagged bottom half of a lightning bolt, but figured it was the personal bias of his crazy writer mind. Even the universe couldn’t be that corny.

There were countless stories he heard growing up, documentaries about the beauty of this miraculous concept, people who invented entire religions because the marks were proof of something divine. 

You meet the person with the who has the other half of your mark, making them your literal other half, the one who complements you in a perfect and absolute manner. There’s no question about it. The mark becomes whole on both people when the realization and acceptance between those involved happens. 

Chris liked that part, at least he had a say in it. Even if he did meet his pre-destined love, he didn’t have to be with him. They were under no obligation to fall in love. Even though his peers and society as a whole disagreed with that. But then again, freedom and it’s fans always have cynics.

They pulled up to a bar and grill that seemed to have a half decent crowd present, which was a good sign. He might be able to meet someone nice if his ‘soulmate’ didn’t work out. Or even show up. Because that had happened. 

He stepped in trepidatiously, wondering what could possibly be lying in store for him. It was loud, louder than he expected a cafe to be, but it definitely gave the place an upbeat sort of energy.

They sauntered to the closest table they could find, one with barstools, where Chris opted to stand rather than take his chances with a possibility of disaster. Who the hell thought a chair with such a low center of gravity would be ideal for drunk customers?

 Skylar was typing away on her phone, and craning her neck looking for their- his date for the night. 

“I’ll be right back.” she said, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear; a clear sign she was nervous. Guess mystery man bailed. 

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“Looking for him, he said he’d meet us here but he’s not answering my texts, and I can’t hear a thing, so I’m going outside.” 

“What if he’s inside?” he said as she was walking off. “At least tell me his name!” he yelled.

“Darren!” came the response, and before his brain had time to process the name, a voice that was all too amiable for a stranger said “Hey that’s me.”

Chris turned toward the origin of that sound and saw nothing but bright light for a moment. He squinted in confusion and then felt a twinge of pain on the side of his head. 

Yup, he had just smacked his head on the low lamps of his table. In front of who might have been ‘Darren’, but was now ‘I’m—gonna—get—out—of—here’. 

His thoughts were proven wrong when he heard that enchanting voice again, asking if he was alright. He waved his hand, aware of the blush that would embarrass him further. 

But all the concerns surrounding humiliation vanished when he saw the man who was currently furrowing his eyebrows and with a little bit of worry in his green eyes. Or golden. Or hazel. He decided right then that he would need more time to study those eyes.

Yes. Somewhere between an hour or easily a year. The guy’s mouth was beginning to form a slight grin, because apparently Chris was staring.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he- Darren, asked again, looking him over. 

No. No he wasn’t. How could he be fine when he just saw the face of the man who looked like he could embellish paradise with his presence. And it wasn’t just how he looked, thought that played a substantial part. 

Something about this man was so alluring, and Chris couldn’t explain what it was. And he was terrified to find out the reason. 

“I’m f-fine. Y-you’re Darren?” he stuttered out. 

“Yeah.” Darren said breathlessly. 

Chris hoped that was a good thing. If Darren was feeling anything like him, that mark, this whole crazy concept of love, would make so much sense. 

They sat down slowly, getting into their worldly senses, but didn’t say a word. They just kept on looking at each other.

Chris was almost expecting some celestial being to arise, shove them towards each other, and say ‘ _Yes you morons. You two are meant to be.’_

The very thought of the ghost of Nicholas Sparks coming to him and dictating his love life snapped him out of his thoughts. Chris realized  _he_  wanted this. 

And then they began talking. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Where he ran out of something to say, Darren picked it up and began a new set of stories that had Chris in fits of giggles.

He had never laughed this much in his life. Chris couldn’t even tell how many people there were around them, because he couldn’t see any. There was only him and Darren. 

He found himself telling Darren things he hadn’t told anyone, stuff he hadn’t even realized himself. His aspirations, his achievements, his secrets and his fears, it all kept pouring out, and Darren soaked it all in.

He gave the proper reaction to each one, as if he were coached on exactly how to respond correctly to Chris. 

When he wanted his hand held, Darren’s hand was there, soft, steady and comforting. 

When Chris needed space, he kept his hands to himself and nodded along understandingly, not saying a word. 

And when Chris was diving into a deep hole of self-deprecation, he thought Darren wouldn’t know how to react. But Darren reached right into that abyss, and gripped him tight before he could go any further, and pulled him back out without a second thought. 

The time came for the evening to come to an end, thanks to a no-good manager who couldn’t mind his own business. Chris didn’t believe him when he said that it was three hours past closing, and he and Darren simply ignored the staff. He didn’t remember anyone, and upon questioning, neither did Darren. 

They said their goodbyes, but those didn’t count for very long. A few hours later Darren was at his doorstep with breakfast and Diet Coke. Chris was pretty sure he never told Darren about his Diet Coke obsession. 

Their breakfast turned into a whole day spent together, which turned into a week. Then a month. A year. Many years. Somewhere between that time there were events that Chris considered trivial, but others insisted were important. Living together, marriage and whatnot. He never wanted a few pieces of paper to define what he and Darren felt towards each other.

The first thing most couples do when they finally declare their love to one another, in any form, be it physical or emotional, is check their marks for a possibility of completion. Chris never did that. Neither did Darren. They saw their completed marks, but were never sure when that happened exactly. Chris couldn’t even recall if he ever checked if Darren had an image that could remotely complete his own. He never felt the need to. 

But there were marks. Two lightning bolts, one on the back of Darren’s neck, and one on the same place it had always been for Chris, on his wrist. Unknown to them, those marks had been completed long ago, in a dumb little cafe that had lamps too close to its tables.


End file.
